“Were you trying to lie low?”
“I’m always trying to lie low.” Up close, he had the slightest of dimples. They weren’t the obvious kind, and she’d never noticed them in the Rolling Stone spreads. But here they were, out for her to see. “Unless I’m not,” he concluded.
“I don’t even know what to say to that.” Becca took a sip of liquid courage.
“When I’m not on stage with the band, I’m just me. That’s what I mean,” Linx continued talking like it was only the two of them in the room.
“Well, heads up. You gave yourself away when you walked in the door.”
“Oh, yeah?” The smoldering look he gave her increased his charm factor by a solid 70 percent.
She hadn’t even thought that was possible.
How was that possible? Huh.
She nodded. Nodded with a touch too much vigor.Tone it down…
“You follow the band?” he asked, like the question was a snake and it might be venomous.
She held her pointer finger and thumb in illustration. “Little bit.”
“Who’s your favorite member?” Was it her or had his tone cooled?
Uh huh. It had totally cooled.
“I probably have to say you since you’re standing here.” She futzed with the condensation on her glass.
He leaned closer, in her space but not invasive. “Pretend I’m not.”
One small move and she could touch him. And if she touched him, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop touching him. Unless he asked. But with that heat in his gaze, it was a safe bet that he would not ask her to stop.
“Well, there was the night I spent with Bax in Belgium.”
Shut up, Becca. Shut up. Shut up.
Her foray into groupie life involved a boatload of concert tickets, airline tickets, railroad tickets, and an updated passport. Then, ta da, she followed Dimefront around the entire European continent, sightseeing along the way. It was one of the best times of her life, and it ended with her spending an entire night with Bax, their lead singer.
Not like that. They hadn’t had sex. They talked. Both of them talked. Communication happened. Likeactualcommunication. He’d been struggling. She’d been struggling. They found comfort in each other through conversation, not the slam-bam-thank-you-Becca she’d expected.
“Bax? You’re kidding.” Linx didn’t seem convinced. Which was good because she should’ve kept her mouth closed. Linx didn’t need to know. No one needed to know. It was bad enough Brek knew.
She was 100 percent keeping her mouth closed from here on out.
“Of course, you’re kidding. You’re way too classy for a guy like Bax.” He took a slug from his bottle. “Definitely not.”
She sipped at her drink. “Believe what you will.”
“Guess I’ll have to.” Dear goodness, his gaze held her in place.
She needed to get away from him long enough to regain her composure. Not forever. Not all night. Just thirty seconds.
“I need a refill.” Becca held up her bottle. “Anyone else?”
A chorus of “No, thank you” and “I’m good” followed her question.
Except for one. “Heck yes.”
That would, of course, be Linx.
